


Foreign Affairs

by tea_petty



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/F, F/M, Group Sex, Light Cock and Ball Torture, Multi, Penis In Vagina Sex, Sex Work, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:00:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29216817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_petty/pseuds/tea_petty
Summary: She takes a strange job with some mysterious clients.
Relationships: China (Hetalia)/Reader, India (Hetalia)/Reader, Japan (Hetalia)/Reader, Macau (Hetalia)/Reader, Macau/Vietnam (Hetalia), Mongolia (Hetalia)/Reader, Thailand (Hetalia)/Reader, Tibet (Hetalia)/Reader, Vietnam (Hetalia)/Reader
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr; tea-pettiest

Most of her clients were somewhat famous and, if not that, then ridiculously wealthy.

She couldn’t name anyone specifically, of course, as her Madam was nothing if not prudent. (Though, for the inquiring minds who’d be interested – the leader of the free-world _had_ left his belt in her suite.) While society had plenty of nasty words to call them, their work was nothing less than exceptional in every category, including discretion and pleasure.

Still, there was a certain sense one tended to pick up in her line of work. While much of her job required her acting fast on her feet and adapting to her client’s needs, this job, in particular, seemed almost a phantom project.

When Madame came by to brief her, about an hour before they were to leave, she had with her a set of clothes she was to wear and a specific perfume. Madam told her to sit at the vanity to have her hair and makeup done – all of these were strange occurrences.

Madam was tight-lipped on who exactly the client was as she primped and preened her, and with each passing moment of silence, her curiosity grew. From diplomats to rockstars, presidents to A-list actors, she’d never been treated quite like this, wrapped like a present or prepared like a prized horse.

Forty-five of coiffing and painting, plucking and polishing, she was staring at her reflection in the vanity; lips red, eyes lined and dark, skin gleaming with a lustrous shine.

The clothes she’d changed into looked to be in the price range of what she usually wore. However, it lacked the brash declaration of sex-to-be-had that rockstars often asked for or the background elegance actors frequently requested of her. Perhaps her client was a foreign dignitary then? 

It certainly wasn’t anything she’d have chosen for herself; the dress was thin and soft, with a fabric that clung and dripped from her all at once. Her breasts looked full, her waist, tight, but it was the sort of dress that looked like it might’ve dissolved at her skin if she got caught in heavy rain. Where it pulled across the generous give of her thighs, a slit teased more of the voluptuous flesh of her upper leg. 

Madam had been careful to tell her to skip the bra.

She spritzed herself with the perfume and caught the scent of jasmine. 

Her hair was piled up on top of her head in an elegant up-do. The specifics weren’t a problem, though she did wonder if with how many specifics there were if perhaps she weren’t acting out some sort of ‘girlfriend’ fantasy for tonight’s client. She didn’t dare ask Madam though – discretion, and all that.

Instead, she wracked her brain for archived news headlines involving divorce proceedings or separations taking place within the scope of the public eye. She could recall none.

“You’re finished. You look perfect.”

Not beautiful or lovely, but perfect.

She knew by now that it wasn’t meant as a compliment. For their work, ‘perfect’ was the baseline. If they weren’t at least perfect, then the fantasy they built for their clientele had no hope of succeeding. She had slept with enough film execs to know that half-baked, Hollywood-brokered stories surely didn’t bring in the big bucks. 

“Thanks.”

Madam checked her wristwatch, the diamonds encrusted in the band glancing off the low light in the room.

“You have a little bit more time before we have to go. You should take some time to prepare yourself.”

There wasn’t a hair out of place on her – this was Madam’s chaste way of suggesting she touch herself. 

This wasn’t a suggestion made before every job, which meant that the client must’ve divulged details of what he (or she) wanted. It also told her that such information must’ve been… _robust_ enough to prompt Madam to warn her beforehand.

Peculiar.

As Madam got her purse and went to the door – to ‘leave her to it,’ no doubt – something heavy trailed in the air behind her. Something wasn’t only being left unsaid; it was being _hidden_. She knew better than to ask outwardly. Besides, Madam had never once steered her, or any of the girls, for that matter, into a dangerous job.

Sexual persnicketies and emotional baggage were her specialties at this point. She thought to put her curiosities to rest. This was still less weird than when she’d dressed up as a specific producer’s mother for him, after all.

Fifteen minutes alone with her vibrator meant that she was thoroughly steeped in her wet arousal when she arrived at the job. Tonight, her office was a hotel with a dazzling chandelier in its grand foyer, splendorously done in regal, white marble, with gold accented everything.

When she went up to the front desk, the woman working it seemed to know who she was before she’d even dropped her name. She was escorted to a separate elevator that required a particular key and sent up to the penthouse suite.

When the doors opened, the car dispensed her into a vast room. She peered around, in awe but too poised to show it -- the far wall had windows that gave her a generous view of the city, curved like she was looking out from the inside of a fishbowl. Outside, the sun was setting. She could see airplanes descending towards the airport, blending in with the city’s muddy run spread below.

Past that, she was struck by how many people there were in the room. Most jobs had her with just one other person, and of course, there was the occasional three or four-some, but here, she counted eight, almost all of which were men.

None of them looked to be dressed for pleasure like she was, with the men clad in suits of varying shades of black and blue. However, all of them were strikingly handsome – so much so that she struggled to reconcile them as the businessmen they were dressed as.

With the sleek, modern-looking furniture in the suite, they could’ve been models posing next to works of art.

The only other woman in the room was dressed similarly in business casual attire; a blouse, blazer, and slacks. 

Ironically enough, she was dressed for work like the rest of them, though her dress code required something that showed a little more skin.

All the same, in what looked to be a room full of well-groomed professions, she was hyperaware of how she’d foregone a bra beneath the thin material of her dress. Before she’d gotten out of the car, Madam had reached over to give each of the stiff buds a sharp pinch. A last-ditch attempt to maximize her ‘fuckability’.

Recalling that detail made her feel a little slutty.

She stepped out of the elevator. 

From ways away, those in the room were gathered at what looked to be a self-serve minibar. A few of them circled glasses in hand. Several shot glasses glittered from the counter, the intricate designs embossed in them suggesting that they were actually crystal.

She didn’t announce herself yet, preferring to take just a few more moments to scope the place out. Lucky for her, only one person seemed to notice her presence by now.

A man, whose dark eyes regarded her impassively from beneath the prominent ridge of his brow and over high cheekbones gave her a nod of acknowledgment. Unlike most of the other men in the suite, he’d already done away with his suit jacket. Through the material of his white shirt, she could see how it pulled delectably over his broad chest.

Two other men he was drinking with noticed the man’s nod and looked in her direction. She took their stares in stride, letting the faint heat simmering at her skin wick off her like water on duck feathers.

She started across the room towards where the people were gathered. A few more, not in proximity to the first man, her looked up, the click of her heels on the polished, wood floor catching their attention.

When she crossed over a section of rug, she could hear how her footsteps dulled slightly. She glanced around the room; it was then she noticed that the suite did, in fact, have a bed pushed off against the wall, behind a transparent curtain.

It looked luxurious; artfully and immaculately made the way beds were at hotels. The pillows, rugs, and a few plush seats were arranged around it as if someone might have gotten out of bed and suddenly found themselves in need of rest again. 

She smiled and spoke when she was a bit closer.

“Hi. I’m here from-“

“Ah! Yes! We know.”

A man standing to the right of the first one who’d noticed her spoke up, his sleek hair pulled into a ponytail. 

She let her gaze linger on him for a moment – there was something about him that struck her as familiar.

He stepped forward to shake her hand, his grasp warm and comforting, more like a handhold than anything else.

“I’m Yao,” he gestured to the first man who’d noticed her and the one standing at his left, “this is Temüülen and Arthit.”

Temüülen nodded again while Arthit reached for her hand like Yao had.

His hand was warm too – warmer than Yao’s – his brown eyes endearingly sunny from behind his glasses. 

_ He _ certainly didn’t seem like the type to do this sort of thing.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, and she chose to believe him.

From there, Yao prattled off the names of everyone else in the room. As he named them, they greeted her with varying levels of enthusiasm, ranging from a nod like Temüülen’s to a smile and a wave; Kiku, Chi, Jamyang, Be, and Vihaan.

“Ah, then, before we get on with it-“the veiled implication made the corner of her lips quirk up. “-did you want something to eat or drink?”

She let herself smile fully at Yao’s offer. She wouldn’t have expected to be offered food here unless it was something she could drop or drizzle over herself for him to lick off. 

It was oddly sweet.

“A drink would be great.”

She had a feeling she’d need one.

Arthit reached for the porcelain flask on one of the tables the group was loosely clustered around before pouring it into a small matching cup. She could tell from the receptacle that it wasn’t a Western drink. Soju? No -- sake? Several liquors were shining from their respective bottles, still waiting to be opened. From what she could recall from her last time drinking _sake_ , though, this would do.

She accepted the cup from Arthit with both hands and gave a little nodding bow in thanks.

Yao, Temüülen, and Arthit watched her sip from the cup – everyone else had returned to their conversations. She was grateful for the low murmur of background noise. Latching onto it, she ignored the burn of the alcohol in her throat. Her expression remained schooled, even with the shock of the heat from the drink. She had forgotten – this was a liquor that could be served hot.

Somehow, this seemed to make it…stronger. She let the heat trickle through her, warming her skin where her dress didn’t cover.

It almost felt like it was highlighting how exposed she was. She had never been shy, on the job or off, but she suddenly felt very naked with all these people who were supposedly her clients, in her silky, sultry attire.

A minute ago, she felt beautiful. Sexy. Like someone who held the key to a secret garden where pleasure and ecstasy bloomed in abundance. Now, she felt a little bit closer to what many assumed her to be; a whore.

She drained the rest of the drink in her cup, careful not to let her face screw up in response to the bitterness. She remembered from the last time she’d drank sake that it wasn’t the type of alcohol to take as a shot, but she had been here for a bit now – perhaps her clients would like to get down to business.

She couldn’t deny that curiosity was gnawing at her, too; how many of this group was she to take care of? 

She sent a side glance to the bed she’d noticed earlier; was she going to have an audience? Her stomach flipped. It would be interesting, to say the least.

“Then, did you get any… _details_ about this job?” Arthit asked, sounding more uncertain than she might’ve.

“No, no details,” she gave a rueful, little smile. “While this looks a little different than what I might be used to, discretion is _always_ a priority, and I only really have _one_ job, so…”

Arthit laughed sheepishly, one hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck.

“Of course. It was silly of me to assume you were as new to this as I am.”

Their eyes met.

She usually refrained from noticing the particularly nice parts about her clients, given that it was work and all. Still, now she couldn’t help but find the small admission endearing in its quiet honesty.

She had nothing to say to him but offered him a smile, which he returned. Rather than fan the heat brought about by the _sake_ and the prospects of being naked soon, a different, softer warmth caught in her.

She looked over the room again. Most of the group didn’t seem to be interested in her, so perhaps this would be an easy job after all. She looked over Yao, Temüülen, and Arthit, trying to see whose eye she could catch in the hope of kicking things off.

All three men seemed to take particular notice of their drinks -- out of respect for her? Out of a reluctance to approach sex – even that of which they’d paid for in advance – so forthrightly?

A revelation hit her as she watched them.

A few in the room she actually recognized from TV – China and Japan’s representatives, for example, who could usually be seen as quiet, solemn backdrops to their bosses at the podium.

Her eyes lingered on Yao; usually, she was struck by her clients’ youth or age off the bat, but Yao was a difficult one to call.

There wasn’t a gray hair in sight against the backdrop of sleek, dark brown. His face, with high, flat cheekbones and a prominent nose, was unlined as well. She was hesitant to call him ‘young,’ though; he lacked the buoyant curiosity and naivete young men seemed to boast in the cocky glimmer of their eyes. Not to mention, she couldn’t ever recall seeing anyone else represent China. It had always been Wang Yao visible during those press conferences ever since she’d been old enough to watch the news. Maybe even before that.

Japan’s rep – standing with his colleagues some ways away – also seemed more mysterious up close. His unreadable eyes and reserved posture no longer appeared guarded or defensive but restrained with discipline countries like ‘Mr. America’ so clearly lacked.

All of them must’ve worked just the same for their respective countries. Their economies just not robust enough to pay for a front and center position on the global stage. Here, they all seemed to be indulging in their personal vices in unison. Yao, Temüülen, and Kiku were enjoying a cigarette with their drinks, which everyone was doing – drinking, that is. The room carried the soft implication of another vice – the one she was in charge of introducing. How to go about that, she wasn’t quite sure. Not with a group this size.

Yao watched her as she studied the room, like two people-watchers examining each other in their fantastically boring habitats.

He seemed to understand her uncertainty, or at least, register it.

“Feel free to do as you’d like; drink a little more, have a smoke.”

She raised an eyebrow as a glimmer of a smile passed across her lips.

“I’m on the job, you know.”

This was funny – he had hired her, so of course, he knew.

“No one here is in any real hurry, though, and you’re compensated well for every extra hour we run up, right?”

It was. It was also the only semblance of something possibly spurring the evening’s events along she’d caught so far. It felt like easy money now, almost too good to be true, as many things in her line of work appeared to the unpracticed eye. Drink and mingle with some of the world’s phantom untouchables and get paid for it too.

“That’s right.”

If this really was to be where they could sate their every craving, then she supposed there was no rushing it. She would keep herself as available as the spirits and tobacco.

Yao reached up to rub his neck from her left, rolling his shoulders and then his head as if exercising a kink from it.

“Long day?”

“It always is.”

Rather than keep his focus on the drudgery of his job, she wanted to fix his attention on what she could do to make him feel better.

“I could rub it for you if you’d like.”

She smiled to make the offer friendly though she was painfully aware of how dirty ‘rub it’ sounded, especially in this context.

Yao raised his eyebrows, seeming more caught on the offer itself. This was fair; she would’ve described the main difference between what she did and hooking to be ‘tact.’

“That would be nice.”

The courtesy in his voice told her that perhaps, even if he didn’t mind paying for sex, that he was embarrassed at the idea of anyone being obligated to touch him. It didn’t matter if that obligation was out of money or something else entirely. 

This was an endearing but common misconception in sex, she thought. Many people forgot that even transactional sex was consensual – any sex born out of genuine dread of the ‘obligation’ stopped being sex.

She went to him, sidling up just behind him to bring her hands up to where his neck met his shoulders.

“Hey!”

She froze just before she could touch him and turned in the sound of the voice. Vihaan was eyeing them, a playful glimmer in his eye. At his voice, everyone else had turned to watch them too. 

“Take all of that to the bed,” he jerked his chin to the one she’d seen earlier, on the other side of the gauzy curtain. 

It hadn’t occurred to her, but Vihaan had a point; it _was_ a nice bed after all.

Yao’s face flushed, and he looked like he was going to protest, but as soon as his lips parted for him to speak, Vihaan shook his head.

“None of that ‘oh, it’s just a massage’ crap – we _all_ know what those lead to.”

She smiled at this, her lips curving up in amusement.

“He’s right, you know,” she said, turning to Yao.

The disgruntled look on Yao’s face never left though he did shut his mouth finally. It was a little cute. 

She grabbed his hand and threaded her fingers through his.

“Shall we then?”

Everyone else’s eyes lingered on them for a few moments. She tugged Yao gently away and led him to the section of the room partitioned off.

Yao reached up to hold the curtain aside as she stepped through before following her in. When it fell shut again, she looked back at the rest of the room, still very visible, as she was sure they were to it. If anything, it looked like a slight, pink fog misted the inside. 

Again, she didn’t see how the curtain did much good, but whatever. It’s not like she’d paid for it.

Both of them hesitated once breaching the curtain. Then, she turned to Yao.

“Have a seat. Get comfy.”

Yao let out a little snort.

“I was the one who rented the room, you know.”

Still, he kicked off his shoes and climbed up onto the bed, sitting by the pillows. Regardless of who’d paid for the room, he knew it was she who’d take care of him tonight. He might’ve been the host for the room, but she was his host in body.

Her stomach flipped as she kicked off her own heels and went to the bed. They had only discussed a neck rub so far, but Vihaan was right – this was only one stop in where they were going.

Good thing that _that_ was her specialty.

The bed was massive – like two king-sized beds pushed together, with a soft, creaseless duvet that made her want to dive in and swim in it.

It was striking to see it now, to stand before it. She was starting to understand this suite for what it was. Possibly, all of them could’ve piled into the bed and laid shoulder to shoulder. If they got creative, they probably could’ve fit in some other configurations, but she waved these thoughts away for now.

In this moment, she was attending to Yao. Everything else could wait.

She got onto the bed too and crawled on her hands and knees to be behind Yao. She pretended not to notice the way the loose fabric of her dress dipped away from her chest as she did so, nor the way Yao’s eyes fell to taste the sample of skin offered to his line of sight.

She positioned herself behind him, her dress riding up to her hips, her thighs squeezed lately around his hips from behind. From the front, no one would’ve suspected anything less innocent than a neck rub was happening. That is until Yao’s hands reached to run lately over her calves, her legs laying just outside of his.

“Comfortable?” 

She leaned forward to rest her chin on his shoulder, her arms wrapping lately around his neck, fingers splayed softly against his chest. The fabric of his suit jacket was soft against her cheek; she knew it must’ve cost more than a month’s rent for her.

“I should be asking you that.”

Her heart thudded as he leaned against her, his weight pressing against her breasts. She welcomed his warmth.

She raised her hands to his shoulders and gave a few preliminary squeezes. The muscle was tough, and she tried hard to adjust her grip to ensure that her nails never bit into him, even as a dull ache settled in the joints. 

Then she paused, her fingers sliding in between the heavy fabric of his jacket and his white dress shirt.

Her touch lingered though she didn’t ask the question. It was pointless, really; they both knew the jacket was going to come off. Still, she had lured Yao over here with the promises of relaxation, and jumping the gun on the jacket might prove to do just the opposite of that.

Yao’s shoulders rolled back as if he were slipping into the movement of shucking the garment off. With the added weight of her fingers, they managed to coax it off of him. 

It seemed too expensive to drop on the floor, so she settled for draping it on the pillow beside her.

Through the thin material of his shirt, she could better feel the heat rolling off his skin. She pressed in and let the warmth of him lap at her. Dragging her fingers and hands soothingly along his skin, kneading where she felt tension, she let herself relax into him. Everywhere her fingers could reach, she would focus on circling little nudges. After a few minutes, she realized that almost everywhere she touched was layered with a formidable wall of muscle.

“Mm, you’re tense,” she said softly.

When her fingers retraced their path to brush experimentally over a place where she’d melted the tightness prior, she could feel that he’d tensed up again.

A low note of confirmation sounded at the back of her throat.

“I feel silly,” Yao confessed. “I used to do this a lot more often, but it’s been a while.”

She noticed that he’d turned his embarrassment to his own performance, rather than the fact that he’d…utilized such similar services before. This delighted her, and she let out a soft laugh.

Both of them relaxed into the sound. Yao’s warm weight against her started to feel familiar as they both grew more comfortable under the circumstances. Her fingers moved lithely like she was studied the planes of muscle that wrapped around his body. He was lovely under her fingers, the perfect ratio of give and take as she coaxed him into a more relaxed state.

The shirt, she could do without, though. Handsome (and no doubt expensive) as it was, the white fabric tripped her fingers up, snagging at them like a rug underfoot.

“You know,” she started. “It would be easier without the shirt.”

Yao froze for a moment though she noticed he didn’t tense. He wasn’t bristling at her suggestion. After all, he must’ve known that the evening wouldn’t have carried on much longer with him still wearing it.

“You’re right.”

His fingers went to the buttons, undoing them one by one. He did it with a practiced nimbleness that wasn’t sexual on its own but only seemed to get increasingly so as she watched the white fabric part to reveal more of his warm, smooth skin. Her eyes slid over his chest from where she could peer over his shoulder, drinking up as much of him as she could as he shrugged the garment off. She let it pool at her lap, where his hips were nestled between her thighs, then, she set her hands to his skin.

Without the separation of fabric, he was gloriously warm, almost hot to the touch, his skin softer than she would’ve thought. 

She kneaded her fingers more tenderly, not wanting to bruise him. From between her fingers, she could make out a freckle where his neck met his shoulder, and for a few moments, she was mesmerized with how it danced in and out of sight as she touched him. His breathing was even. She loved the feel of this in her palms too, each breath stretched like taffy in her hands.

She worked the muscles at his back and shoulders. Her fingers slipped further over, squeezing at the sides of his arms and moving to the upper areas of his pecs. Not quite traditional massage territory, but then again, this wasn’t just a massage.

Her movements slowed as she waited to see how Yao might react.

When he didn’t at first, she leaned forward to press her breasts against his back. Through the thin material of her dress, he could feel her stiff nipples. 


	2. Chapter 2

He became hyper-vigilant of her body against his. She felt this in the barely perceptible tightening of his body.

“Relax,” she soothed, her face tilting so that her lips could find his neck. 

At the feel of her warm breath against his sensitive skin, he only seemed to get wound up tighter. So much for relaxing.

His weight against her intensified as he leaned back – not for comfort, but to feel her _more_. 

Like this, she had more leeway with her hold. She stroked her fingers further along Yao’s chest, feeling the lean muscle here.

She could feel Yao’s breathing catch as her hands skimmed downwards, over his ribs, across his torso, where they idled near the waistband of his trousers. His body felt tense all over again – undoubtedly, her touches were putting him in a frisky mood. When she peeked over his shoulder, she could see that there was already a prominent bulge at his slacks.

She was about to ask him if he was ready for her to push things further – to ‘clock in,’ as it were. Yao did her one better, though, and took her hand, guiding it down to his impressive erection.

She felt heat spike in her own body in response; she adored the feel of a wanting partner against her – adoration at its most carnal. 

She pressed herself against him, tilting her head so that her lips were at his ear.

“You already have me dripping, you know.”

She rubbed her hand against his bulge, slowly as if to rev him up. Yao’s breath caught again as he watched her hand jerk against him, glassy-eyed. He let out a choked groan.

“You like to watch? You’re already so big.” she teased him.

His chest was rising and dipping fast, and deep, like his body could barely keep up with the air he needed. 

Like every faculty was dedicated to feeling her touch as much as possible, sending necessary background functions to the backburner.

“Mm, you can hold me tighter than that, can’t you?”

She let her actions speak for themselves and gave him a playful squeeze, testing his patience and her own courage. Yao reached to fit his hand over hers, guiding her in a half-jerking, half-fondling movement as much as the divide of fabric would allow.

“I should’ve booked a private room,” he muttered, shooting a glare through the curtain towards where his colleagues were still milling about the little, seated area. 

Somehow, there seemed fewer people from where she was sitting now, but she paid this detail little mind. She had her hands full of the man in front of her, in any case.

She shifted her hands down further, cupping his balls through his trousers, giving them a hard squeeze too. 

Yao gasped, and she thought she felt his cock twitch in response. She relished this.

“Am I correct in assuming you like to be manhandled a bit?” She bit back a grin.

Yao’s cheeks flared as he stared hard at her.

“You might be.”

The tinge of embarrassment was terribly endearing, and she sympathized with him. She got the impression that it had been a while since he’d been so open about his _tastes_.

Her hands went up to undo his belt – a feat that was done with impressive quickness – before she hooked her thumbs around the waistband of his slacks and briefs to tug them down. His erection sprang free. Yao watched, a little dazed, too anxious to see how she handled his arousal to do much in return.

“Help me get your pants off?”

Yao took a moment to process her request before he leaned forward to push the fabric further down his legs. As he bent to do this, she watched his vertebrae through his skin – intricate, delicate, detailed. He was beautiful. Each dimple in his flesh or plane of muscle looked like it was deliberately carved by the hands of God himself.

She marveled at him as he kicked his pants and underwear off, where they fell over the side of the bed. 

Yao leaned forward and shifted so that he was on his knees. She stared admiringly at how his erection looked from this angle. It was almost buoyant, reaching proudly, prominently, virilely away from his body. His balls hung from the base. 

She entertained the idea of reaching forward to cup them again for a few moments before she moved so that she was on her knees as well. Holding her hand flat, she gave a firm spank from the bottom of Yao’s sac and watched, delighted, as he jolted sharply with a gasp.

“Was that okay?”

His chest was heaving again, and as he shifted his weight, his cock bounced slightly in the air.

“Better than okay,” he answered, his voice strained.

She moved so that she was beside him, instead of behind, where she could better reach his cock. 

Straightening her hand again, she administered another light spank, this time to his erection. Her eyes followed as it bounced in response to the impact of the strike; meanwhile, Yao’s breath hitched in a bark.

She grasped his cock, intending to soothe over the light punishment she’d delved out. It was velvet and iron in her hands, veiny and larger now that she was wrapping her fingers around it.

She peered up at him through her lashes and never broke eye contact as she lowered herself so she could take him in her mouth. Her hand slunk along his length, working him softly up until the very moment her lips sealed around him. She licked his tip and tasted the salty pre-cum beading there.

Yao grunted, his head dropping back.

She bobbed her head, focusing on the sensation of his cock filling her mouth and slipping out. Her lipstick painted his skin as his fingers found a hold in her hair. She moaned, wanting to show her approval at how he touched her. The sound buzzed around him.

“ _Ah_!- Please—”

Past the curtain, she was acutely aware of the fact that she could no longer hear the myriad of voices woven in the fabric of idle chatter.

In her hair, she felt his fingers relax as he started rubbing soothing touches into her scalp. With this new leeway, she pulled away from his cock, reaching to cover him with her hands and jerk him off again as her head ducked so she could suck at his balls.

She mouthed at the soft, wrinkled skin, gentle at first, wanting to test him here before she caught the sac between her lips and let her teeth graze it.

Yao moaned loudly, a great, shuddering gasp making his body tremble before her. 

“We do massages different where I’m from.”

A teasing voice from the curtain had both of them startling. She looked in the direction of the voice, rising so that she was on her knees again, decidedly away from Yao.

Yao scowled at Arthit, his teasing grin rendered a gauzy, dreamy pink from the curtain.

She felt her skin heat, the patch between her legs growing wetter at the idea of being caught. It had been a while since she’d felt actually _naughty_ in her line of work, but Arthit walking in with her lips at Yao’s balls suddenly had her feeling a little slutty. 

The thought excited her.

“Did you want to try one of my massages, too?” she asked coolly. “If you drop your pants, you can have one.”

Arthit’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t help but notice how boyishly captivating he looked when they did.

Yao cut in, determined not to have his own pleasure derailed by Arthit’s intrusion.

“I imagine you’ll find Arthit to be a nice, little break from me. Sucking him off would be like sucking on a gumball.”

Arthit seemed unfazed by the apparent slight.

“Why, Yao, you speak as if you’ve tried it yourself.”

Her gaze dropped to Arthit’s crotch, where she noticed he was sporting an impressive bulge.

Yao watched as she crawled over to the side of the bed closest to where Arthit was standing. Both men seemed entranced with how her hands went to undo his belt. The buckle clanked, the fine leather gleaming slightly as she unlooped it. It almost felt like heresy to let what must’ve been another costly garment fall to the floor. However, there was something much more pressing she had to tend to. It was currently tenting the front of Arthit’s trousers like the fabric could just barely contain him.

She popped the button, tugging the zip down, and then Arthit’s erection sprung free. His musky scent hit her. 

He was impressive; his cock was darker than the rest of him and with a thickness that made her clench wantingly. Even with how wet she was, she wasn’t sure taking him would be easy. The exposed mushroom tip was red, and again she imagined herself grinding her wet, swollen cunt against him.

Though it wasn’t true, she couldn’t help but tease him a little.

“How cute.”

Arthit knew the game she was playing immediately, his grin spreading wider across his face. She noticed he had very nice teeth.

“Haven’t you ever heard that it’s not about the size of the boat but the motion of the waves?”

Her eyes went back down to his erection, still standing proud. The sight of it had her mouth watering, stoking the wetness between her legs as well. As always, she enjoyed the position of looking down and casting judgment on a man’s cock.

“Are we talking about an ocean?” she pressed. “And not, let’s say, a puddle?”

Arthit palmed his cock, which only made it appear more prominent. God, to imagine it _inside_ of her…

“You’ll see for yourself soon enough, I think.”

His gaze was hot on her skin, waiting for her to make the next move. She decided to take his remark as an invitation.

She tugged at the little, silky sash at her dress, loosening it around the waist before she reached up and, in two fluid movements, to slip her arms out. The fabric didn’t even catch at her hips as it dripped from her form and pooled at the covers where she left it, one puddle of fabric in another.

Both Yao and Arthit watched as the material revealed her. Now it was just her lacy panties breaking up the delectable expanse of skin. 

From the other side of the curtain, she could see the only other woman in the room through the gauzy, pink fabric.

Be’s dark eyes were on her breasts, soft, supple, and now bared for them.

She locked eyes with the other woman as she hooked her fingers at the waistband of her panties and peeled them off too. Her stomach flipped excitedly at the thought of their eyes on her wet, swollen cunt. She parted her thighs wide as she dragged her underwear down the length of her legs, hoping her three bedfellows enjoyed the view she gave them as she did so. Their attention fed the wetness collecting there.

She loved the feeling of her lover watching her, but she thought it entirely possible to come just from all their eyes alone with how many she had in this room.

She stretched out luxuriously across the bed, falling onto her back, her thighs parted. She reached forward, delving her fingers to the wet seam between her legs, and stroked in long, even motions. 

Her face burned, surprised at the lewdness of the sounds that came so quickly from her touch, even though she felt all-too-aware of how amorous she was feeling. Her skin was warm and silken to the touch. She thought perhaps she could almost feel the hum in her body, the pulse of something else inside of her – her too big, too lively desire, pounding at her from the inside to get out.

Her dexterous fingers found a spot nestled in her wet folds that had her hips lurching upwards to crash against her knuckles. Her eyes fluttered shut, and in between, these shuttered peeks through butterfly wings, she caught her reflection.

Confusion mingled with the sultry fog of her arousal before she realized that there was a mirror mounted on the ceiling above the bed, matching the impressive span of the luxurious gold duvet. She looked adrift in a sea of it, stranded and burning, desperate for a rescue that would’ve nailed her in place.

She thanked whoever had furnished the room for the small blessing of watching her fingers work herself. 

Her fingers spun sweet pleasure from the deep wetness pooling between her legs; they gleamed with a pearlescent sheen on the brief occasions they surfaced from her wet cunt.

“Talk about a ‘room with a view’,” said Arthit. “Is everything you do such a turn on?”

Arthit’s voice barely registered in her head; she could hardly process it let alone string words together in a response. This was bad; she was here for _his_ needs, among others.

She rode out the delirium of her arousal and stalled with a contented whine in the back of her throat. 

When she managed to get some of her mind back, she answered.

“Depends – what would you have me do?”

“I’d like to see how you are with control.”

The first image that came to mind was her riding him.

“Make me stroke my cock for _your_ pleasure.”

“Mm, that can easily be arranged.” Her lips curved up into a smile.

“Slap it, edge me – whatever you want to do, so long as it involves my cock and you like it.”

She let Arthit’s voice set the scene in her head; she thought of his warm, fine-boned hands clutched around his erection, slinking along it, coaxing a glistening bead of pre-cum from its red tip. She slipped a finger into herself and imagined it was him, even though she knew he would’ve filled her much more substantially.

As if her body was both actor and director, she added another finger without even thinking about it, increasing girth. The friction was enough that she could latch onto it now; she felt heat sear through her and let out a contented sigh. Her strong inner muscles sucked lightly at her fingers; God, she wanted more than anything for it to be Arthit’s cock instead.

Her eyes fell shut as she pumped her fingers in and out of herself, knuckles brushing the wet seam of her cunt. The wet sounds intensified. She forced her eyes back open again to watch as her fingers disappeared at the junction of her thighs. 

Her hips twitched upwards, and she was startled; was that what her partner saw when they fucked her?

She hitched her thighs up higher and wider so that her fingers could reach deeper along inside of her. 

She moaned wantonly, wanting the others to be roped in by the sound of her voice.

Where before, she felt their eyes like fingers stroking at her skin, stoking at her heat, now they all seemed to fall away. They felt weak to her own gaze scrutinizing her body and bearing witness to her pleasure.

What a new and strange thing to be experiencing, especially in the company of others. It was almost enough to make her forget the job entirely; she wasn’t making money to make _herself_ feel good, after all.

Regardless, she was already in too deep, and so her release found her swiftly. The vague guilt she felt at coming before she’d touched most everyone else in the room had her making silly, little rationalizations in her head as the heat at the pit of her stomach scattered in her body. This was good marketing – she was giving them a taste of what their own futures held.

Her fingers stilled inside of her, which she pulled out with a wet _schlik_. She sat up, her skin glistening with the sheen of her sweat, feeling warm and relaxed. She had half a mind to just bend over and let them all have their turn; the rubbery feeling of her body convinced her she could take most anything just then.

As her post-orgasmic thrum wore off, she realized that the pink curtain was no more. Someone had wrenched it off to one side, opening up the entire room, making their little boudoir a part of it -- or else, making the whole room, their boudoir.

Yao was still watching her. He was a couple of feet away from her on the bed, his hand wrapped around his stiff cock. Arthit was naked too, his legs spread easily as he sat in the chair beside Be, a bottle between them. If she was bothered by anyone’s nakedness, she didn’t show it. They look pleasantly reclined, their dark eyes on her like they were enjoying dinner and a show.

The air of professionalism she’d felt upon first entering the room had vanished; the air felt lighter. More relaxed. 

The minibar group had some closer too, still chatting idly though now a few people occasionally looked over to where they were at the bed, as if sampling to see if something worth their interest was occurring. She made a note to herself to ensure she’d get everyone to the bed at least once.

She could sense a tightness in the other bodies in the room, a vigilance, starting with Yao’s and Arthit’s own. She wondered if Be was far behind. She pushed up so that she was sitting on her heels, her arms forward in a way that pushed her breasts together. Transparently slutty but enticing all the same.

_ You can lead a lover to bed _ … she thought, and she had, several of them, really. 

Now it was her job to entice them into a good fuck.

She caught the eye of Kiku from where he and some of the other men were standing, a little ways away. 

Letting her lips turn up into a wicked, little smile, she crooked a finger out and beckoned him to her.

She was surprised to see him set his drink down and oblige. However, she suspected it wasn’t in his nature to ignore someone, even if going to them went against what was immediately comfortable to him.

She decided to honor his courtesy with candidness.

“I’d like to do something for you,” she said when he was close.

“Do what?”

She flashed him a smile.

“Whatever you’d like.”

Kiku’s face was unchanged. 

To her, he seemed almost disinterested. Not at all like he’d been watching her since she’d entered the room. 

That’s why what he said next took her off guard.

“I’d like to fuck you then.”

Her surprise at his answer only stalled her for a second. After that, they fell into a fast, tumbled rhythm. 

It was divide and conquer to get him naked.

Kiku reached a hand up to loosen his tie as her hands fell to his belt. Both were undone within moments, and then he was shucking off his jacket and getting started on his shirt. She popped the button and pulled the zip down on his pants.

Up close, she could get a better sense for the bulge in his trousers; he was rock hard. So he _had_ been watching, despite what she’d initially thought.

When his clothes were pooled on the floor, she grabbed him and fell backward on the bed, effectively pulling him on top of her. Yao was still rubbing himself, watching them from his curled position against the pillows. 

Kiku looked down, studying his fingers as they found the area between her legs. He probed them along her wet folds experimentally, and she let out a little sigh.

At the sound, Kiku paused.

“Is that okay?”

“It’s better than okay. You can just stick it in if you want though – I’ve already come, so I’m all wet and ready.”

His eyes widened the tiniest bit at what she said, and then he was shifting on top of her, his hand trapped between their hips. He palmed his erection so that his tip aligned with her entrance.

She jostled her hips, grinding against him to emphasize her own need, and then his hips slapped against hers, and he was hilted inside of her in one smooth movement.

He grunted at the feel of her tight, velvet heat around him.

“ _Fuck_ —”

His lips twitched.

“You have a dirty mouth.”

She peeked up at him through her lashes.

“Maybe you should spank me then.”

Her hands were against the sheets then, nails biting into the fabric as Kiku began to move. She could hear the wet drag of his cock inside of her as he pounded into her soft heat. 

His eyes never left her, only dropped from her face, where her brow had furrowed as she focused on the sweet friction, to her breasts, which bounced lusciously beneath him.

She could feel his heavy sack smack against her, and his hand dropped down to one ass cheek to give it a bruising squeeze.

“ _Ah_!—” 

It was a pained sound, but it only made his cock throb inside of her. Kiku didn’t answer as his hand went up to her breasts instead. He gave her nipple a hard pinch, which had her jolting beneath him again, before he grabbed the breast more fully, plumping it.

She winced.

“You’re rougher than I would’ve thought.”

Kiku slowed his thrusts, trying to take in the way she looked beneath him, flushed, soft, _malleable_.

“Really?” His voice was pressed, biting, under the force of his exertion. “You’re just as soft as I thought.”

If she turned her head to the left, she would’ve seen that Yao’s hand had picked up in its pace as he jerked off, his eyes fixed hungrily on the space between hers and Kiku’s bodies. 

His skin had a lovely flush to it now too.

At another particularly rough thrust, her eyes fluttered shut.

“You’re _big_ too.” 

She arched towards him, the movement of which helped feed power in her hips as she snapped them up to meet his in a stinging impact. When she writhed beneath him like that, she could feel them brush up against each other in other places – shoulder, chest, hips – like a sticky, salty kiss.

She had been right – although her fingers weren’t nearly substantial enough to prepare her for his girth, her orgasm had made her wet enough that he slipped in and out of her easily. 

It also had ensured her terribly sensitive for when he fucked her. She already felt herself nearing her second orgasm of the day.

“ _Oh_!—”

It was her only warning for him before she clenched around him, her cunt pulsating greedily around his length as she came.

Neither of them could believe it as she got even wetter.

“Mm, that’s good,” he groaned.

His hand went down to her ass again, feeling the muscle there. It was softer now that her release had sapped her of her strength. She was still too sensitive, though – when her body was shocked by the effect his cock had on her, he could feel a little twinge of tension in her buttocks, and it made her smile.

“You have a cute butt.”

The comment brought renewed heat to her face. She felt Kiku fondle a cheek.

“Does that mean you’ll spank me— _ah_!—after all?”

Kiku didn’t answer; he just issued a hard smack to the meaty part of her ass he could reach in their current position. The sting had another sultry mewl dripping from her mouth.

“I think I’m going to…”

She knew what he was going to say before he could get the word out.

“Come inside.”

Her words stroked over him as smoothly as her fingers moved at the firm planes of his chest. 

Though each thrust had her twitching with how sensitive she was, the thought of him coming was too delicious for her to experience passively. She rocked her hips up against his, desperate to bring him to his release faster. Kiku’s face twitched, his brow furrowing and his eyes pinching shut.

“ _Please_ Kiku, come for me.”

She felt him twitch inside of her, and then there was that spread of warm heat as he emptied himself.

His head bowed, face dipping into the crook of her neck. His body still braced protectively over hers, respectfully of her, lowered without sagging. She spotted the substantial column of his bicep from her peripheral vision. She thought he seemed like he was shielding her from the eyes of those around them.

Little did he know, she liked when others watched.

“You have another lover already waiting for you.”

She shivered into Kiku. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up at the feel of his breath curling at the shell of her ear.

“Mm, then I’d better get to work.”


	3. Chapter 3

She shot him a playful little grin, which he returned, his own expression softening. 

Kiku took his cue to leave and slipped out of her. This time, she was better prepared for the lingering remnants of pleasure that flared at the softened drag of him against her sensitive walls.

Where Kiku pushed off to leave the door, another man lay across the bed, waiting. It wasn’t one she’d talked to so far; she noticed Yao had gone to get a drink, his cock no longer hard from where she was looking. 

She could always fix that again later, though; right now, she was to see to the handsome stranger in her bed.

“Vihaan, right?”

He grinned, his eyes crinkling with his smile, making his friendliness infectious. It was always lovely when a client was happy to see her, and not just to fuck her.

“That’s right,” he reached forward to find her hand with his and pulled it to his lips, where he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I thought I’d come and make a more personal introduction.”

She let her eyes slip shamelessly over his body, naked and covered in lean muscle. His cock, thick and uncut, stretched proudly away from him like it reached towards her. 

She tempered the urge to roll the skin back and stick his tip in her mouth. That could wait; Vihaan gave her the impression of a man that liked to take his time and enjoy things. Quick, sloppy head might not be what he was looking for at the moment. 

This suited her fine; her body was still heavy, her heart still pounding from her time with Kiku. She felt hideously wet and sticky with a mixture of both her slick and Kiku’s seed.

His hand reached out to trace her figure, from shoulder to hip, taking stock of her voluptuous curves. 

“You’ve even prettier up close.”

She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut, both to savor the moment and to tell him that she was enjoying his touch. They sat like this for a few moments, and then her eyes opened again, and her face took on a mischievous edge.

She rolled luxuriously onto her stomach, easing up onto her knees first, her ass up in the air towards Vihaan so that it looked like she was stretching like a cat. She gave her hips a playful little wriggle before she propped her front end up with her hands so that she was on all fours.

“Would you have me this way?”

She felt something trace along the seam of her cunt, and she moaned.

“I’ll take you any way I can have you.” He ground his thick head against her swollen, wet cleft. “How’s this?”

She didn’t answer immediately; she just looked over her shoulder to watch him behind her. She wished she could see how his cock looked pressed against her. Still, she’d settle for the sexy taper of black, wiry hair, picking up at his lower belly to where she was sure she’d find a tuft of matching hair at his thick base.

She considered briefly sticking a pin in this to offer to blow him after all. The more she thought about his cock, the more she wanted it in her mouth first, but then Vihaan was grinding against her again, leaning forward so that his chest was against her back.

She gasped, her body twitching beneath his.

“It’s— _mm_ —great. _Fuck_.”

One hand found a hold on her hips while the other stroked softly along her back before reaching around to cup a breast.

“Yes,” he grunted. “Fuck.”

He used the hold on her body as leverage as he pushed into her. 

Vihaan took her with surprising roughness, his hips slapping against her ass as he railed her. After the first few strokes, the hand at her breast gave a contented squeeze before reaching up to thread into her hair. Her scalp stung as he tugged her head back.

“ _Ah_!—Vihaan!”

Her voice carried, pulling several gazes around the room towards her. All they caught was the view of Vihaan pounding into her from behind.

She felt something brush against her clit – his finger? -- and she bucked from beneath him; the hold in her hair tightened.

“Is this what you needed?” he asked, his voice terse and breath warm against her neck.

She shuddered and felt herself clench greedily around him.

“It is, _daddy_.”

Vihaan grunted, not having expected that. The hold in her hair left, moving back to her hips so he could drill deeper into her. 

The front half of her sagged into the mattress, her face nuzzled into the duvet.

Vihaan’s grip on her tightened, and then she felt her hips hitch higher against him, her legs dangling from where Vihaan held her back end from. She gasped, both at the unexpected thrill of his deceptive strength and from the sudden change that intensified the depth of their fuck.

“ _Oh_!—That’s—”

“Call me what you did before, and I’ll make you come.”

His voice was incredibly calm for being balls deep in her. She felt her face warm. It had been fine when she’d tossed the word out without a second thought, but now that he’d taken to it, she was thinking about it, and it was… _embarrassing_.

“Uh—”

Vihaan speared himself into her, his thrusts piercing through her deliberation.

“Tell me what you need. Ask...properly, and I’ll give it to you.”

When she still didn’t answer, Vihaan pulled out all of a sudden. The absence of his girth was agonizing; she let out a cry.

“Wait!—”

Vihaan stroked his cock against her wet folds, tracing, grinding, pressing so tightly against her he might as well have entered her again – but he didn’t.

“Tell me.”

She tried hard to push her hips back onto him, but the way he held her ass up left her entirely at his mercy.

“ _Please_ ,” she whined. 

“I need it. I need _you --_ daddy.”

She buried her face into the duvet, mortified at the sound of her own voice – terribly saccharine and blighted by _that_ word. As promised, though, Vihaan thrust his hard length back into her and went back to stuffing her so wholly, she thought after this, she might never feel another fuck like this.

Her breathing roughed, and she turned her head, drawing dizzyingly close to her release.

In the seated area, she no longer saw Arthit or Be, but Temüülen, his dark eyes taking in the scene. He bore witness to the viciousness of their fuck, the way her breasts swung free beneath her, the helplessness of her at Vihaan’s hands and cock.

Temüülen’s hand slunk up and down his bared erection, his face all business, even as he pleasured himself.

Her eyes never left the impressive length in his hands as Vihaan’s drilled into her. His fingers stroked through her hair, his lips peppering her back in a series of shaky kisses.

If she had known Temüülen was watching, she absolutely would’ve sucked Vihaan off. The scene played out so clearly in her head – her lips sealed around Vihaan as he thrust into her mouth. In contrast, Temüülen would play with himself and watch.

She rocked her hips back against him. Vihaan was moving so quickly, his hips were barely grazing hers before he was withdrawing from her to the tip, only to pound into her again.

Her head busy with this image, she barely registered the twitch of Vihaan inside of her as he came. 

His wetness only added to the mess already inside of her. She felt wetness dribble out like she was already overflowing in seed. She imagined it streaking down her thighs in milky, white rivulets and felt gloriously sloppy.

Vihaan set her back legs down onto the bed and pulled out. He pulled his cock from her. She heard the wet suction of her sensitive walls and the cum that sealed him inside of her. Her hips and thighs ached from how Vihaan had held her so hard, but this was quickly forgotten as her former lover’s form melted away into the background to clean up. Temüülen rose, his erection bouncing slightly with the movement.

She felt his dark eyes slide over her form like it was one long caress. Though scorching, all the same, the way he appraised her felt less tender, less reverent than how Vihaan did it. With Temüülen, it was more like he was judging the value of livestock he wanted to buy.

Though the muscles in her arms stung from how they’d supported her weight from the previous fuck, her job was far from over. She pushed herself shakily up, sitting back. Her legs folded by her hips, arms pushing her breasts together so that Temüülen could better appreciate her figure.

Temüülen reached forward to plump at her breasts, lifting them and letting them drop just to watch them bounce. 

She looked down, watching how his hands fondled and tucked at her. She _did_ have nice tits, she thought.

Both hands came up then, leaving her breasts. Temüülen gave her a firm push so that she toppled over on her side; the mattress bounced as her weight hit it.

Her stomach flipped, the heat in her flaring at the roughness of him.

He ran his hands over her belly, down her thighs, and across her ass, grabbing the most luscious parts of her, reveling in how she filled his palms. She moaned softly and leaned into his touch. His eyes went briefly to her face before returning to her ass.

He gave her a light spank and a grunt of approval.

Her eyes went to his cock, proud and erect, its tip glistening with precum. Her attention was pulled from this momentarily as the mattress divoted again. Both she and Temüülen looked to see another man had joined them. 

It was Chi if she remembered correctly.

She was so used to the heat building up in her that she thought for sure that it had become her default state of being – that is until Chi turned her on her back with one firm grip on her knee. His own erection was clearly bared. When she thought of him using it on her, she knew that the way she was going would end in her feeling deliriously better than the restless desire that ravaged her now.

Chi shifted so that he was sitting back, his legs folding. They surrounded hers so that to the rest of the room, they must’ve looked to be sharing an intimate conversation, bodies bowed forward, their legs forming arches on the bed.

Temüülen glared at Chi but didn’t disturb the erotic scene in front of him, as his colleague hijacked his lay. His hand returned to his cock as he watched them, a surly look on his face.

Chi’s erection lined up against the seam of her cunt perfectly from this position, and her head dropped back as she let out a low groan when Chi ground against her.

The view of his body was terrific from where she was sitting; the warm tan of his skin and firm planes of his chest wonderfully enticing all on their own, even without the friction nestled between their hips. She only had time to get a glimpse of it, though, because then Chi was grinding faster. His shaft rubbed persistently against her folds, finding a sweeter spot tucked along his path.

She cried out, not expecting the intense pleasure that ripped through her.

“Are you going to ask for it from me like you did with Vihaan?” Chi seemed to purr, “Or should I just start fucking you?”

Chi didn’t even give her a chance to answer before he was stuffing his cock into her. The upwards tilt of his hips had his cock entering her at a _come-hither_ angle, brushing right across a particularly sensitive spot along her inner walls.

“ _Oh_!—” she gasped, her eyes widening.

Her fingers pinched into the duvet again, tethering her as Chi started thrusting mercilessly into her. 

Her breathing came in hard, shuddering gasps, and she let out a soft sob at how his cock seemed to strain and batter at the inside of her.

Her body was already rearing to come from her session with Vihaan, and so it wasn’t long before she felt her release hit her as Chi fucked her viciously. She trembled. Her voice tore from her throat in a fractured whimper, minced by the demanding rhythm of their coupling and the tension of her body.

She could feel her slick coating her inner thighs as it slipped out of her.

Chi had started chasing his release at a sprint, not a marathon’s pace, but even then, she quickly became oversensitive. As she began to recoil from Chi, their eyes met, and she gave her head a little shake. 

The bed was knocking against the wall with the force of his thrusts. 

“God, it’s too—”

Chi reached for her to adjust his grip on her thighs, holding her harder and closer, forcing her further back so that the position was no longer balanced.

His cock inside of her was starting to almost hurt in her sensitivity. Meanwhile, one of Chi’s hands abandoned its bruising hold to reach over and find her clit. Her hips bucked violently in response.

Chi was fucking her like he was trying to drill a permanent need of him inside her, like he was breaking her body down and rebuilding it so that it would only fit his cock, lock and key. 

His eyes were cold from behind his glasses as he watched her unfurl beneath him.

When he did finally spill himself inside of her, he pulled out almost right away and watched his spend dribble out to glaze her slick sex.

“It’s too what?” he teased, referring to her unfinished declaration from earlier.

Again, he didn’t seem to be too interested in her answer. He left, grabbing a towel someone had left on the arm of one of the chairs nearby so that he could bury his cock in it.

Temüülen had gone to be by the liquor again, but Yao had returned to keep her company.

Alone with him, while everyone else crowded by the drinks, albeit sweatier and more naked than when she arrived, made her feel like she was experiencing déjà vu. 

Yao stretched out on the bed alongside her and ran his fingers over her folds. She shuddered against his touch, a low moan leaving her throat, but didn’t stop him.

“Mm, you look different from the last time I saw you. Less in control.”

She let out a little whimper as he plunged a finger into her hole. It made a loud wet noise.

“Yao, no, I’ve just—”

“Come. I know. That’s what makes it fun.”

He ducked his head to press a kiss to her hipbone, watching with a cattish look in his eyes as his finger disappeared into her. On the outdraw of the next movement, he added a second finger.

“You look great like this – all wet and messy. It suits you.”

Her face warmed.

“You didn’t seem to mind how I looked before.”

Her hips jerked against his hand, driving his fingers deeper into her so that they hit a spot that had her tight walls clenching around him. This didn’t go unnoticed by Yao, who tried to focus on this spot.

Where she had felt regal and luxurious beside Yao earlier, now she felt unquestioningly like a whore. 

It left her with a need for his praise. This and the permanent wetness that seemed to have settled between her legs made a raw shame gather in her.

“I didn’t,” said Yao. “You’re beautiful either way.”

Pressure in the pit of her stomach released, and at the next thrust, a spray of something clear and watery left her and spattered the duvet. She hadn’t done _that_ in a while.

“ _Yao_!” she whined. “ _No_!”

Her voice sounded helpless and desperate. Her thighs clenched tightly, but Yao’s fingers were uninhibited by her meager attempt to shut him out.

She heard a round of rumbling chuckles, and when she turned her head, she could see several men’s faces through the curtain, with leering smiles.

“I almost like hearing your name when it sounds like _that_ ,” said Temüülen with his brow cocked.

Her arms came to fold over her breasts; she was suddenly embarrassed by her nakedness and of the mess she’d made (and was.) A part of her wanted coverage and reassurance. Still, the other part, the part that had never lost sight of this job, let these restless, fluttered feelings invigorate her. Many of the men here seemed to _like_ her vulnerable like this, and she certainly liked doing things they wanted.

Sure enough, as Yao pulled his hands from her sex, she peered around her. She saw almost everyone in the room – all except Be – around her, half-perched on the bed with a knee up or in one of the surrounding chairs, naked. Even those she’d sated recently were hard and rearing to go again. She had never seen so many cocks at once.

“You’ve been working hard,” Vihaan said with a grin. “But there’s someone who hasn’t had their turn yet.”

She hadn’t been expecting this. 

Her brow raised, and she let her gaze slide around the loose ring of naked men. They didn’t seem to be talking about Be, as she hadn’t joined them yet. She did a mental role call; Yao, Kiku, Temüülen, Chi—there!

A man with a kind, round face and a bashful smile that rivaled Arthit’s in its boyishly endearing quality. 

She’d scarcely seen him, let alone spoken to him or anything else for that matter.

“Go on, Jamyang,” Temüülen clapped the other man’s shoulder heartily, sending him lurching forwards.

She could sense this man’s hesitance instantly; she would have to be the one to make the first move.

“Hello,” she smiled. “Was there anything in particular you wanted?”

At her question, a few of the men chuckled. For them, the answer was so obvious.

“Ah,” his lips twitched upwards, and a playful dimple leaped at his cheek. “You’d probably know better than I would.”

“That’s fair.”

Truthfully, she didn’t; different people had different preferences. There was no ‘correct’ way to come. Still, she knew Jamyang’s remark was more of a testimony to his own need for her to make the decision, rather than to her actual experience. She thought for a moment, trying to imagine what would have him recalling the experience again later, as needed.

Her under him? Her with her lips wrapped around his cock? Her eyes dropped to his erection, and she smiled a bit wider. That felt right.

Yao leaned back to give her room as she moved towards Jamyang. She paused just for a moment and watched his face.

“Is it okay if I touch you?”

“Yes, please.”

His politeness had warmth blossoming inside of her. How refreshing it was. She reached for his cock and slunk her hand along his length, slowly coaxing his already impressive erection up taller, prouder. 

Jamyang’s breathing roughened, but he said nothing, not even as she bent down to wrap her lips around him.

She bobbed her head, moving at a dynamic pace, quick first, then a little slower, dragging out the wet, tight friction of her mouth around him. She lavished his tip with her tongue, grinding down against it more furiously when she felt his breath stutter.

Out of her peripheral vision, she sensed the ‘circle’ tighten. She had commanded an audience.

It didn’t take long for Jamyang to come; when he did, she took his load, only letting maybe a dribble or two out from between her lips, pushed out by her tongue for her audience’s pleasure. 

Jamyang’s skin was thoroughly flushed, his eyes glassy as he watched her swallow.

Someone – though she couldn’t tell who – whistled.

She released Jamyang’s cock, letting him go. Yao was still on the bed, but he was holding a shot glass and in the middle of getting it refilled by Be, who had since stripped down to her underwear.

Luckily, her patrons didn’t seem to intend on having her chase down business. Arthit rose to his feet and went to join her on the bed, sitting, his erection bobbing from his lap.

If she were honest, she’d been hoping he’d come to see her again; she never did tend to him properly. 

Without thinking, she shifted, spreading her thighs a bit wider, expectant.

This seemed to please Arthit, and he leaned back, smiling, wanting to give her the room to do as she pleased with him. While it’s true, the idea of mounting him then and there was incredibly enticing, Jamyang had given her a taste for cock that hadn’t been entirely sated.

Instead of seating herself on his lap, she leaned forward, bending her head down so that she could kiss his tip. She heard Arthit grunt, and then something touched her hair, stroking softly. Her heart skipped a beat.

Still, while her mouth worked, the rest of her body was starting to get a little cold. She shivered, her nipples hard and aching. She hoped Arthit would preoccupy her with something that would get the blood pumping soon.

She took him between her lips, her hand wrapping around what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. She stroked upwards as much as she could as she pumped him in and out of her.

Arthit reached over as she sucked him off and ran his fingers along her wet folds. He made an approving sound in his throat.

“I meant to get my hands on you all night.”

His voice had heat welling viciously in her; it might’ve choked her if Arthit’s cock hadn’t been so close to doing it. Her thighs gave a little quiver, tensing around his wrist, and he chuckled. 

His fingers found the sensitive bud nestled at her wet seam. As he touched it, much as she’d grown fond of thinking of him in all sorts of manners, she couldn’t seem to tear her attention from the little place between her legs. She felt hot enough that she might’ve shed her skin if she could.

“Mm,” she made her own approving sound, only because she knew it would buzz around his cock.

She hollowed her cheeks so that his tip pressed tightly to the inside of her cheek. She felt the movement between her legs falter as he twitched in her mouth and then unloaded in her.

This time, she took every drop.

Arthit surprised her by bringing his hand up to her face, his fingers stroking softly at her cheek as she took his load.

“Good girl,” he said sweetly.

This was the first time someone had said that to her where she didn’t hate it.

He was pulling himself from her too soon, and then Kiku was taking his place, stroking himself like he was getting himself nice and ready for her. 

“Hello again.”

Kiku’s face flushed, and his lips quirked upwards into a small smile.

“Long time no see.”

She felt him twitch as she sealed her lips around his girth.

“Let’s see if your mouth is as talented as your cunt.”

The words themselves might as well have slipped between her legs. Her eyes flashed at what sounded like so obvious a challenge for her. She turned her head so that the tip of his cock was pressing against her cheek and then bobbed.

Kiku let out a hiss, his hand flying up to tangle in her hair, pulling several locks from their elegant style.

“ _Fuck_.”

If she could’ve smiled with his cock in her mouth, she would’ve. She reveled in how his hold on her tightened. She willed her throat muscles to soften and relax. She expected he’d pump his hips against her soon, and sure enough, Kiku’s balls were bumping against her chin as he face-fucked her a moment later. She peered up at him through her eyelashes, the wetness stinging in her eyes, making them glitter in the light.

It might’ve been her mouth on his cock, but even Kiku knew she was the one in control.

He was rock hard in her though they both knew he wouldn’t stay that way for long. He pulled her hair, the sting at her scalp just shy of painful, and she let her teeth graze the side of his shaft, warning him not to be too rough.

“My apologies,” he grunted. “I might’ve underestimated you.”

Still, his fingers barely loosened against her. She groaned, letting the sound buzz around him. 

Kiku matched the sound with a deeper version of his own, and then she was tasting his salty spend as he emptied into her mouth too.

Kiku pulled out before he was completely finished, dribbling some on her chin and down her chest. She sat upright, and he gave one last look at her before leaving to search for a towel.

Two bright pink patches rode high at his cheeks, and his eyes looked almost weary as he looked at her. 

Kiku gave his head a little shake.


	4. Chapter 4

“Fuck,” he said again.

Fuck, indeed. Be came back, Chi trailing just behind her. The woman paused before getting on the bed, hesitating.

“Are you still…working?”

She gave a luxurious stretch and then flopped down on the bed, patting the space next to her.

“Absolutely, come on up.” 

Be nodded and mounted the bed on all fours, the mattress dipping under her weight. “I haven’t gotten time with you yet.”

Be blushed a little but didn’t say anything else.

Chi again followed behind her, bracing himself on the bed with his knees. 

“You’ll have to deal with me here too. We come as a package deal.”

Her brow raised -- she hadn’t thought to stop and think of the activities they’d partaken in themselves. They _did_ spend much more time together than she did with them, though. What an exciting development.

“The more, the merrier.”

Be looked unsettled for a moment, looking once to Chi for reassurance before continuing at his nod, sitting upright on the duvet where her new bedfellow had patted. What now?

“Come on down here with me,” she said gently. “We don’t have to do anything right away – let’s just relax.”

Be lowered herself to the bed, falling to this position easily. She lay on her side, facing the other woman, her back to Chi. The man didn’t seem bothered by this at all. In fact, he took to stroking his fingers along Be’s back, massaging at the light play of muscle beneath her lovely, translucent skin.

He let his hands skim lightly down her back, below her hips to her ass, which he gave a playful pinch. 

The pink at Be’s face flared, and she turned to give him a sharp glare. Chi grinned, seeming to enjoy her reaction. 

“I’m jealous,” the other woman mused. “He gets to have your cute butt.”

“Ah, but you get some rather nice bits too, don’t you?” 

His hand went up to the clasp of Be’s bra to unclip it easily. She watched as the straps slackened at the woman’s shoulders, and then Chi’s fingers were slipping it down. Be let the garment drop to reveal two pert, little breasts, the nipples pink and hard.

Chi leaned forward, awkwardly and when Be gasped, the other woman realized that he was grinding up against her from behind.

She took this opportunity to cup Be’s breasts, her thumbs stroking at the stiff peaks.

“So beautiful,” she said.

Be’s face darkened, and she let out a soft moan.

“Ah, the both of you—”

The other woman saw the tip of Chi’s cock poke through Be’s thighs, and at the strange and sudden friction, Be’s breath caught in her surprise. Chi had taken up a hold on her hips -- leverage from which to fuck her soft, plush thighs.

“Does that feel good?” she asked softly. “You look great.”

Chi paused his back and forth, thrusting to shift his hips from side to side, grinding his cock against her. 

The other woman was still stroking softly at Be’s breasts, occasionally leaning forward to brush her lips against them.

“Feel how hard he is? That’s because of you.”

“It feels…different. _Good_ different.”

She laughed softly.

“Good.”

Be’s breathing grew heavy, and she sucked in a breath through her teeth, her face drawing in a pained look. 

She noticed as Chi momentarily lost his grip on Be, his fingers trembling slightly.

“Grind against him,” she advised in a low voice. 

Be obeyed, rocking her hips back, matching his tempo, albeit a little tentatively. 

“ _Be_ ,” he panted.

On the next forward thrust, Chi came, his seed spattering Be’s thighs, the heat and mess surprising both women at that very moment. 

“ _Oh_!”

Seeing Chi was finished, for the time being, she turned to the group of potential lovers, curious as to who else she might invite into their little boudoir.

“Arthit, would you come over here for a moment?”

Be seemed curious, but Chi seemed to understand what she was planning. He gave an affectionate little pat to Be’s thigh before pulling back and drawing away. Maybe to clean up, possibly to replenish his drunken veil, which had no doubt faded by now. 

She started to think she could use some replenishment herself.

“Be, take off your panties, and get on your hands and knees.”

The other woman obeyed, understanding well what was going to happen next.

Arthit also caught on quickly; he went behind Be, her ass already facing out over the edge of the bed. 

“Can I put it in?” Arthit asked, taking up a soft hold at Be’s hips.

“Yes.”

It was Be who answered. 

Arthit pushed in slowly, and Be moaned.

“It feels _good_.”

“Better than just between your thighs?” she asked.

Be blushed.

“Yes.”

Arthit grunted, wanting to be a part of the conversation but lacking the focus and air to do so. He started thrusting into Be. 

“Mm, I forgot how good you looked naked,” he remarked, his breathing heavy, his chest rising and falling steeply.

She realized she was surprised at the notion that Arthit and Be had been somewhat intimate before. 

Though she knew she had no right to feel it, there was sharp envy that panged in her gut, souring the new thrill of playing director to this attractive harem of lovers.

She raised a hand to stroke through Be’s lovely, silken hair, raking her nails lightly down her back. Then she pressed her hand against the base of the woman’s neck, forcing the woman down from being on her elbows to being face down into the duvet. She could feel Be’s breath catch now – alarm at the sudden force inflicted on her.

“Raise your hips higher. He’ll go deeper that way.”

The tension leached from Be’s body, and she let out another low moan.

“I didn’t know you were a teacher as well as an…entertainer,” Arthit teased.

He plunged his cock deeper into Be and brought a hand to her ass hard, spanking her. Be juddered in his grip, shocked and enlivened by the sting. 

Arthit leaned over, his chest along Be’s back, and reached one hand over to tangle in her hair. Threading his fingers through the inky locks, he tugged her head up so he could better reach her neck. Arthit sank his teeth lightly into the side of her neck, earning a little yelp from Be that brought more wetness between her legs. 

She felt like she was admiring a lovely work of art and reached to idly stroke along Arthit’s back. Her eyes fell to Be’s breasts, bouncing low as Arthit fucked her.

“Up,” he grunted. “Get up.”

Arthit fell back on his ass, pulling Be with him so that she was sitting on his lap. They both let out a little ‘oof’ at the impact on the bed, and then Arthit was thrusting rigorously upwards, spearing into Be.

Now, with Be’s breasts more accessible, the other woman moved forward. She bent her head so that she could nose at her cleavage before she managed to catch a nipple between her lips.

Be moaned again as she started sucking at her nipple. Arthit caught the view of the other woman, her face planted in Be’s tits. 

“Fuck, you both look so _good_.”

She licked a stripe across Be’s nipple, her other hand plumping at the other breast, fondling it lovingly.

One of Arthit’s hands came around to find Be’s clit, the rhythm of their fuck pausing so that he could make sure he found it. Be jolted in his arms.

“ _Ah_!—” she groaned, hips bucking, back arching.

Then all at once, they seemed to slow down. Arthit’s face tightened, there was a split second of absolute stillness, and then they were sagging against each other. Be on Arthit, Arthit bowing against Be.

He’d finished in her, and they both seemed sated.

Arthit drew out of Be, his cock drizzling his seed across the duvet.

She turned to Chi, giving Arthit and Be a chance to catch their breaths.

“You came back.”

He winked at her.

“It’s your turn now.”

He sat down on the bed, his erection standing tall, and sat, his legs crossed. Be and Arthit watched as she climbed onto Chi’s lap. She raised herself so that the tip of his cock was positioned at her entrance before dropping her hips and sinking down onto his cock. 

Having broken from being stimulated continuously, her body felt a slight stretch as he entered her now. 

She wasn’t as wet as she had been before. She tensed, setting her jaw.

“You’re doing well,” Chi murmured against her shoulder.

It took a few moments as she strained around his cock. Arthit lingered by the bed, his cock softening in his hands, just so he could watch her take Chi. 

When Chi was fully hilted in her, he reached around to wrap his arms around her. He hugged her to his chest, hands taking this opportunity to fondle her breasts.

“Mm, you’re soft.”

She felt a warm wetness streak at her neck as Chi licked her. One of his hands dropped to between her legs, stroking at her folds, working up a renewed wetness. He found her clit quickly and thumbed at it. She squirmed in his lap, clenching around his thick cock unwittingly and his hold on her seemed to tighten.

Her breathing roughened, tapering off into a high whine at his ministrations. She jolted on his lap as his thumb circled her bundle of nerves, sending shocks of pleasure up her spine. Her thighs started to shake, and Chi moved his fingers faster.

With a staggering quickness, she felt pressure build in her gut. Chi hadn’t even _fucked_ her yet; surely she couldn’t be on her way to coming so quick. She was hyperaware of Be’s and Arthit’s eyes, hot on her skin. She secretly hoped that Arthit got a taste of how she’d felt watching them. Chi shifted his hips, testing his length in her. The fingers at her clit never stopped.

Chi was hard, reliable, warm beneath her. She had been waiting to feel this full all night; she just hadn’t expected Chi to be the one to make her feel this way.

God, she’d have to tuck this position in the back of her mind for the next time she fucked. She thought she could feel him in her _gut_.

His fingers worked skillfully at her, playing her like an instrument, pulling light, breathy moans from her throat.

Meanwhile, Be had wandered over, her thighs dribbling with cum, both from what slipped out of her and what Chi had left on her. She leaned forward, her legs folding delicately around the outsides of Chi’s, facing her, nearly straddling her. Be’s breasts were in her face; God, this night only got better. 

Be dropped her own head, finding a breast experimentally. She moaned as she felt Be’s tongue against a stiff peak.

Chi continued to rock his hips, his length never wavering in its depth – just testing her tight, sensitive walls. She tightened around him, a strangled noise leaving her throat as she rocked her hips back against him as much as she could; like even with their current proximity, it still wasn’t close enough.

Be latched on to them, her hands grappling at Chi’s shoulders, sandwiching them tightly together. Her nails bit into the lean muscle there before she raked them down his arms, trailing angry, pink trails in their wake.

Chi barked something out in his language that had her clenching around him. 

When her release came to retake her, Be raised her head and crushed her mouth to hers. Usually, her eyes shut during a kiss out of habit. Still, here, she kept them open, staring straight into the other woman’s dark eyes, taking her breath as her own, as Chi weathered her tight, stifled orgasm.

His hand was still moving between her legs, albeit slower. She was still breathing hard as she reached down to bat his hand away.

She could feel the sweat beading at her skin, a result of their close heat, all three of them. Chi was still stiff inside of her as she let him cradle her and Be against his chest.

Now, the evening’s events were starting to take a toll on her. She let her eyes flutter shut as she melted into the warmth of her lovers. Be’s weight was comforting on her, and she barely registered the little twitches of Chi beneath her.

“Jamyang, while you’re there, can you get me my cigarettes, please?”

Chi’s voice slid right through her head. She could feel his steady heartbeat against her back.

She didn’t even register when he’d gotten a cigarette. Had barely felt the movements he went through to light it. Suddenly, the air was thick with smoke, and she felt light, pressing nudge against her ribs.

“Hey,” his voice was much closer now. “Did you want a smoke?”

“Mm, no, thank you,” she said, her voice as heavy as she felt.

She felt him shake slightly as he chuckled.

Dozing off slightly, minutes or hours could’ve passed – they’d technically booked her until the following afternoon, so it made no difference to her. Through the haze of her sleepy exhaustion, she could make out the sensation of someone stroking her hair, her cheek, her back. At first, she thought it was Chi, but then she heard Arthit’s voice.

“Mm, I’m a little bit envious of you right now.”

A chuckle rumbled from under her.

“You never even got to--?”

“No.”

There was a note of silence.

“Maybe tomorrow, before she goes.”

“Maybe.”

Something warm and soft covered her – a blanket? 

“She looks peaceful like that. 

She must’ve been tired.”

It was Arthit again.

Chi made a sound of confirmation. 

“You could take her to the bed if you’d like. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

Her heart thudded. Her mind was too foggy to parse out the meaning of the words exactly now though her body registered her stark want easily.

“No, it’s alright. She already looks comfortable. I’ll try again tomorrow like you said.”

“Tomorrow then.”

There was a longer, stalled silence, and then she was certain Arthit was gone. She let herself be soothed by the warmth of Chi’s body, protective and steady under her. _Tomorrow_ , she thought, and it was the last thing she did before sleep overtook her.


End file.
